


home (for now)

by levintiana



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Kayn, Kayn League of Legends - Freeform, League of Legends - Freeform, Noxus, Shieda Kayn League of Legends, Zed - Freeform, league of legends kayn, noxian empire, rhaast - Freeform, shieda kayn - Freeform, swain - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levintiana/pseuds/levintiana
Summary: eighteen year old kayn is sent to noxus to retrieve the scythe inhabited by a darkin, though he finds himself easily distracted by the remnants of broken memories
Relationships: Kayn - Relationship, Shieda Kayn - Relationship
Kudos: 16





	home (for now)

Rain slid off Kayn's leather boots and wet mud sopped from the heels as he exhaustedly trudged along the wet path. He was dressed from head to toe in traditional Noxian clothing – a standard cloak tied at the front of his neck with a wooly tunic, and warm trousers extending to his ankles.

The downpour pattered down onto his cheeks and while he squinted his eyes to keep his line of vision on the road ahead, he could just make out the silhouette of the iconic Noxtoraa arches and its looming concrete structure peering out from the dim panes of the shrouded mist.

His brown hood draped over his head and it reached down to meet his calves as it flailed so elegantly behind his back in the wind, were it the same fabric of the dozen Noxian banners adorned so proudly on the very walls he approached. The frontal strands of black hair framing Kayn's sharp face and jawline clung to his rain-dampened skin, as the chilling breezes of the storm howled around him. 

Pulling the strap of the large bag over his shoulder to tighten its grip, he continued to trek along the coarse path towards the warmth and the beckoning glow of torchlight from the grand building up ahead.

He had eventually met the brooding arch of the black iron gates and was greeted by two soldiers standing on either side, shields at their sides and swords in their sheaths. He worried that he'd not be let in; that he'd be turned back down the very way from whence he came. After all, a dozen years had passed by the last time he had departed from this entrance. A sole memory of his childhood was that of his seven, or possibly eight year old self, being whisked away through these gates accompanied by several other children like him– unexpected to ever return.

He stopped in his tracks to skim his weary and travel-bogged eyes over the stronghold features. The cracks in the stone walls from ages of weathering did not seem familiar, nor did the gateway. It looked new and recently refurbished. The spikes and edges of the beams on it were designed to trap. To prevent escape, perhaps? Kayn didn't know, though he felt it was best to keep caution regardless. 

Approaching the two figures standing guard, he extended a hand through the drizzle and fog to silently announce his arrival to them. Stepping in under the gleam of the torches, he removed his hood to reveal his face and to offer a fake smile as a welcoming gesture. He needed to get in. Surpassing this point was vital, and being turned away was not an option. He had travelled for weeks by ship and on foot to arrive at this very location, and could not afford any mistakes at this moment. 

"State your business." One of the men said, steel eyes gazing right through Kayn's soul. Kayn stood confidently, acting as though he was not uncomfortable and drenched to the bone from the storm. 

"Gentlemen," he started, a charming grin plastered across his face. "I live here. From around the Immortal Bastion, actually. Grew up there." He watched the soldier glance at each other in silence as he continued with his smiling façade.

"Born and raised?" The taller soldier spoke, doubtful. "I'd know a 'fella from there when I saw one." The other guard stared at Kayn in annoyance channeled towards the ignorant gatesman standing beside him.

"Yes, sir, that's what I said. May I enter? It really is quite cold, and I-" Kayn asked, furrowing a brow. The man suspicious of him cocked his head to interrupt him. 

"How are you called?" Kayn was asked, as the gatesman retrieved a quill and a leather script, prepared to take his personal details. 

"Kayn, sir." Despite his nervousness, he continued to smile politely and nod his head. 

The man in front of him sighed. "Have you any proof of identification?" 

Damn it, Kayn thought, as he forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. His neck twinged and the smile on his face faded into a snarl of annoyance. Eyebrows raised, he prepared to argue his case. Zed had warned him that Noxian security would be difficult to breach, yet Kayn's arrogance said otherwise. Surely, nobody would ever question him or think twice? He silently cursed himself for not following the advice of his master, yet there he stood in front of two guards risking arrest or, worse, being turned back.

Before he could utter even a word, the second guard groaned in response to the questions being asked. He was no fool; everything about Kayn had screamed "Noxian" all along. He was a tall man with clear physical attributes, a strong bridged nose– even the rare amber eyes possessed by few token residents. Even the accent he flaunted was no different to one of any individual who had spent the entirety of their lives in the empire, despite his countless years away from the country.

"Can't you see? This is a Noxian man!" The second guard spat. 

"I'm only following protocol, sir. Those damned spies could be anywh-"

"Are we to let one of our own freeze in the dreaded rain? Let him through."

With the pull of a lever and the suspenseful turning of metal gears, the iron gates lifted upright to somberly welcome Kayn home. The second guard offered a towel to him, to which he humbly accepted and draped around his cloaked shoulders. He hid a shaky breath of relief from the two men before stepping foot into the country. As he began to walk away, the bickering of the two soldiers at the gate faded away into the loud hustle of the busy crowds. 

The gate led into the huge city closed in by steep-sloped walls expanding for hundreds of miles on end, marketplaces and stalls set up through the claustrophobic streets for as far as the eye could see. There, the buildings all lined in rows were connected by tethered strings reaching overhead between the houses, decorated with proud Noxian flags for every six inches of rope. The ground was embellished with concrete tiles, all swirled together with intricate designs and patterns. Barely any unique hues stood out, apart from the signature crimson red, black, and grey color palette of the nation.

Unswept gravel and granite from the concrete pavement crunched beneath Kayn's wet boots as he began to walk the path through the crowd again. Some off-duty soldiers clad in their iron chest plates with maroon capes hanging from their neckline were standing around, often engaging in conversation or exchanging in business with the merchants scattered around the slim streets.

The silhouette of the Immortal Bastion's grand structure peered down upon the surrounding cities and towns from miles away in the centre of the city, exactly the same way as Kayn remembered from his youth. He remembered sitting by his bedside window at night, peering out into his very own world as he knew it then.

Trudging along, his eyes had fixated themselves on the cobblestone fountain in the town square. Though he had never lived here in this section, he could still picturize in his head the very last time he had seen this fountain; twelve years ago, when himself along with countless other children were made to walk past here in a single file. He remembered the touch and sound of the fountain, how the water cascaded beautifully from its tip and flowed down to its base. Today it was devoid of crystal clear water, and replaced with only the collected raindrops pooling in its murky basin. 

Kayn's mind grew anxious at the thought of one of the many guards recognizing him as an outsider, and his feet argued over which steps to take and where to move next. He stumbled against the fountain and ignored the momentarily concerned glances shot towards him by the passing crowd.

Kayn bit his lip as he looked around again. He remembered the dull streets, the grey skies. The political unrest at the time of his childhood, and the words of his mother. That if he should utter a word expressing any doubts of the empire's supremacy, he'd damn himself along with his family name. Which was why he felt that it was much better to have kept to himself, so that not even the ravens could hear him.

He remembered the faulty street lights. He remembered how back home he'd be reprimanded by his mother for being even five minutes late with his returns in the evening, after the lights flickered away into the darkness at the same set time every day at dusk. He remembered waving goodbye to the other children he would often play village games with, unknowing of the financial pressure anchoring his parents into borderline poverty at home.

His childhood home was on the outskirts of the hustling and crowded cities, in a more quiet estate. He had barely seen the trees and the greenest of grass with how the landscape was shaped by its residents; flatlands, etched permanently with the strongest of iron and steel. Kayn remembered the comforting smell and the warm colors of Ionia's grass and the flowers, only moments before he was handed a sickle and told to fight to his bitter end alongside the thousands of other children shipped off to the shores of Bahrl that day.

Pulling himself together and shaking these memories from his head, he advanced further for hours towards the capital until his legs gave out from beneath him. His sopping wet clothes had dried off– courtesy of the gentle breezes following the previous storms. Hitching a bag up on his back for the past week had worn him out and the thought of seeking refuge beneath a tree had been more comforting to him than anything at that moment, though he persisted on reaching the capital before nightfall.

He dragged his battered shoes along the pavement, blocking out the deafening buzz of the crowds going about their daily routine. Some shoved up against him, some made way for him. Though none paid direct attention to him as he anticipated. He towered over the majority; roughly six foot two, at eighteen years of age, though most mistook him for older. It had never been an uncommon occurrence. 

Kayn's eyes scanned over the tables of the market stalls. Freshly baked goods being sold on red cloth, right beside the tables of throwing knives, daggers, and the odd swords in their sheaths on the walls behind the counters. As disgustingly Noxian as it was, Kayn scoffed and rolled his eyes to the heavens to once again keep pace and to move through the congested sea of people.

Some vandalized alleyways had been spray-painted with symbols of the Trifarian Legion and the crest of Noxus. Stopping in his tracks to take in the sights was out of the question, thanks to the extremely busy and fast moving crowds shoving their way around. Noxians weren't particularly the kindest, and hearing vulgarities along with insults to incompetent persons or slow walkers in the empire tongue was not rare.

The uncomfortably claustrophobic streets had widened out once he reached the town square. As the narrow path dispersed, so did the cramming of the residents. Lesser people still roamed around, holding woven baskets and dragging their children around with them. He stood in place, taking in a fresh breath of air. The wind filling his lungs contained few dust particles, as it always had. 

The mild smog was always worse on wetter days like this, as he remembered from youth when he'd come home early to hack his lungs up after long evenings of breathing in the polluted air. Noxus used to undergo an early stage of openly experimenting with chemical for warfare which it has since then discontinued, though the remnants of the fumes stick to this day, though nowhere as bad as it once was.

Kayn crinkled his nose at the thick scent of steel and metal as an ironsmith passed him, wrapped from head to toe in leather drapes and bandaged hands. He slid the large bag from his shoulder and set it on the ground, digging inside to retrieve a small canteen of water. Making his way over to the steps of the square, he opened the drink up and generously drank from it. 

Catching his breath after hours of coursing through thick mud in the rain and the stress of dealing with soldiers at the gate, he tilted his face up to greet the warmth of the sun peeking through the grey clouds– closing his eyes to rest for just a moment. He reached to unravel his cloak from around his shoulders, to let his hair loose for it to dry off. He shook the fabric before folding it and cramming it in the bottom of the bag. Kayn ran his fingers through his hair and the length of it flowed down over on top of the short steps he sat on.

He was shot some surprised glances from those who passed him by, as they'd never seen anyone with hair as long as his. Short hair was common in Noxus– it proved easy to manage and to keep out of the face. He shrugged off their rude stares and instead savored the sun's affection for as long as it would allow him. Afterwards, he rose to his feet to examine the monument erected behind him; one to supposedly commemorate the new reign of Noxus under Jericho Swain. 

As he leaned forwards to read the Noxian text engraved into the stone, he felt a slight tug on the back of his tunic. Glancing over his shoulder, he turned around to see three children; all of whom were hardly older than nine years old. Two girls, and their brother, Kayn assumed. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked down to them. The young boy smiled bashfully with both hands behind his back, standing next to his two siblings while fidgeting and swaying nervously from side to side. 

The smallest one, with fair hair and brown eyes shyly cowered behind her sister who was barely taller than her. 

"Sir?" She asked softly, cheeks rosy with embarrassment, while she held her younger sister's hand, with a small basket of flowers and leaves in the other. Kayn could only glance at them all in confusement.

"Eh? Sir?" He scoffed, lowering himself to sit down on the steps again to meet their eye level. "You lost or something?"

He brought his leg up to his chest to bend it at the knee, letting the other leg lie out straight and resting his right palm on the floor behind him. He squinted at the small girl through the rays of sun shining directly in his eyes, cupping the other hand above them so he could look at her properly.

"No, sir, we- my sister-" She turned to look down at the five year old and gently pulled her out from her hiding place from behind her back. "She wanted to see your hair." 

"Oh." Kayn clicked his tongue in the corner of his mouth. "Well, can you see it?" He joked, as all the length of his black hair obviously cascaded down to the bottom of the staircase in broad daylight. The three children giggled, as did he. Kayn noticed the bright amber eyes of the young boy, identical to his own eyes. He offered a kind smile to him. 

The youngest daughter handed the reed basket to the eldest, who extended it out to Kayn as a gesture. "Would you mind if we- if we could, erm, maybe, please braid your hair? Please?" She nervously smiled. 

"Uh," Kayn tilted his head in curiosity and shrugged his shoulders. "Go for it, kiddos." He adjusted himself to sit up straight on his legs, pulling his hair to the side. Instantly their faces lit up, and they wasted no time in kneeling behind him to wrap and weave it all together. The youngest and shyest girl suddenly bursted with confidence, excitedly helping her brother and her sister neatly wind Kayn's hair into a plait.

The ends were secured off with a small red ribbon wrapped into a bow and they wove pastel flower petals between the thick braids. A few townspeople passing by stopped to watch this as the mother in the small crowd of about ten looked on.  
Once they finished, Kayn stood and whipped his head around to see the long singular braid trailing behind him. It reached his waist, and the ribbon gently flailed in the breeze every time he twirled around. 

"Not bad," he smiled. "I love it. Thanks, kids." 

The children stared in awe of what they'd done and their eyes gleamed in the sun. The eldest girl picked up the now empty flower basket and beckoned for her siblings to follow her down the steps to where their mother stood watching from the front door of their house across the square. Kayn waved to them as they left, hearts aglow. He pulled the braid over his shoulder and held it in his hands, admiring the decorations they had adorned it with. 

Petals of the daisies, lilies, and poppies in his hair danced in the gentle breeze as he glanced over to the summit of the Immortal Bastion in the distance, being overshadowed by the magnificently golden sunset behind it. 

Retrieving the scythe and returning home to Ionia could wait. 

For now, he'd admire the flowers.


End file.
